Brainstorm Storage Vault
by wargear
Summary: Used to house 'Support'. Realised it's never going to be updated. Now storing the bits and pieces that haven't yet made it into fully fledged stories.
1. Support: The Father

This is another idea that erupted from my feverish little mind...it's a nice little load of ballocks and doesn't earn me a cent...Harry Potter, cast and crew do not belong to me, and this feeble little effort is in no way a challenge to the ownership of J.K.Rowling.

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"CRUCIO"

Draco began screaming. Pain, like fire, burning through his nervous system, writhing on the ground.

Lucius sneered his disgust at the boy's weakness. "The Dark Lord requires something of you, Boy."

Draco, uncurled himself, limbs shaking in reaction to the Unforgivable just cast upon him, slowly rising to his feet…_a Malfoy faced the world on his feet_…

"You must put the Potter boy in his place this year…"

"B…But Father…he's too s…strong for me…" Draco wimpered, almost cringing from his father and the expected reaction.

Lucius shook his head regretfully and sighed. "Really Draco, do grow a backbone…Crucio."

Again the fires of agony ripped their way through Draco's flesh…


	2. Support: The Express

Again, not a challenge to the rightful owners of the Harry Potter marketing empire...just a meaningless little bit of fluff...

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In a secluded cabin on the Hogwarts Express a secret meeting was taking place behind closed and warded doors.

"Drink Draco, it will stop the shakes," Millicent sat, propping Draco Malfoy up against her while trying to steady his hand enough to let him bring the potion to his lips.

Sitting opposite them, Crabbe and Goyle were taking quick sips from a small flask of Fire Whiskey…each hoping for a little of the fabled Dutch Courage to carry them through the rest of the trip.

Draco finally managed to swallow the post-Crucius potion, feeling its numbing balm flow out from his stomach to his extremities, shuddering in relief.

A sudden tapping on the door broke the momentary peace. Crabbe gulped down a larger mouthful than he had expected, almost sending him into a coughing fit. Goyle, in a moment of almost zen-like situational awareness, quickly slipped the flask out of Crabbes hand and into a hidden pocket of his pants. Malfoy squeaked and turned rather more pale, and Bulstrode wrapped a protective arm around her smaller housemate.

As the tapping resolved itself into the secret knock, the gathered Slytherin relaxed…but only a little.

Draco took a deep breath, gathered himself together and put on his best sneer. He stood up and reached for the door, pausing to look down at Goyle.

Goyle looked up at Draco's sneering face, and gave a discrete thumbs up, before putting on his own accustomed thug-face.

Draco opened the door wide.

Pansy Parkinson stood outside, her face twisted into a look of arrogance and utter disdain for the pair of passing Hufflepuffs.

Draco sneered in the general direction of the 'Puffs, before grabbing Pansy's arm and hauling her into the cabin, quickly shutting the door behind her. A moment later the wards were back in place, now joined by a minor locking charm.

Turning around to face Pansy, Draco found himself suddenly engulfed by the sobbing girl. Knowing there was little he could do besides offer her what little comfort he could, he awkwardly patted her on the back until her shuddering sobs calmed.

"It was horrible…those Griffs were…" Pansy, almost on the verge of tears again, tried to convey her feelings. "Just horrible…they're so mean…"

Draco nodded. "Which cabin are they in…and is…Potter with them?" A faint hope in the pale boys voice.

Pansy shook her head, "He's there, with Granger, both Weasleys, Longbottom, and Lovegood." She swallowed her next sob.

Draco grew an even more interesting shade of pale.

Crabbe and Goyle both took long gulps from the flask, knowing that they would soon be facing it with him.

Millicent's eyes teared up, "No Draco, they'll hurt you, there's too many of them." She looked across at Crabbe and Goyle, "Tell him."

Malfoy shook his head sadly. "I have to, it's expected of me." He swallowed convulsively. "If I don't, my father will only punish me all the more…"

Millicent stood up, "I'll come with you…"

Draco looked at her with surprise, but gently pushed her back into her seat. "No. There's no need for you to suffer this as well." A look of resolve coming over his features. "Come on…we might as well get this over with…"

Crabbe and Goyle took one last swig from the flask of Fire Whiskey each, cast a quick charm to hide the smell on themselves, and followed Draco out of their cabin and towards their next crushing defeat at the hands of The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Their-Lives-Miserable…


	3. Support: The Common Room

Again, not a challenge to the marketing monolith that is the Harry Potter empire...just a little bit of fluff...

Hawiian Girl/Red Bess Rackham - If you could see the entire story as I can, you might change your mind. Or it could just be my warped and twisted Aussie sense of humour. And for the record, I hate Draco...

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The sorting was over, the feast consumed, and Blaise Zambini was absolutely exhausted. The amount of mental effort it required to face the rest of the school with a confident face, just took it out of him.

Passing through the wards into the Slytherin common room was a relief. The calm, serene, supportive colours lifted his spirits. He paused to take in the comfortable worn tartan couch, the colourful beanbags, the lush floor coverings, and the numerous posters on the walls with pictures of friendly people saying things like "You Can do it" or "Turn that frown upside down" …

He slumped down onto his favourite chair, just to the left of the picture of kittens romping in a meadow, and watched as Professor Snape introduced himself to the firsties.

The moment Snape had crossed the wards, his entire appearance and demeanor had shifted. No longer the stern, sarcastic, greasy, and much feared Potions Master; he was garbed in light emerald robes, his hair clean and slightly curled, an open and friendly smile on his face. It was his eyes that changed the most though…from dark, withdrawn and closed…they were now shining with emotion…love, caring, empathy.

He walked slowly over to the five first year students, kneeling down before them, he reached out and drew them…one by one…into a caring hug, the kind of hug a parent gives a loved son or daughter.

Around them, many of the older students had tears in their eyes, remembering. For most of them, the Professor was the first person to ever show them affection, to show them that they were deserving of a parents love.

As the evening passed, and his wards toddled off to bed, Severus went from room to room, dispensing hugs, pats on the head, and reassurance. It had been a long and stressfilled day...


	4. Damned By Their Own Hand

Authors Note: I don't know what it is about the Harry Potter stories that engenders such filthy thoughts in people…but here is the result of yet another deranged brainstorm.

I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the associated marketing empire. I gain nothing from my writings except a little stress relief and, of course, the accolades of my peers.

**

* * *

****Damned By Their Own Hand.**

* * *

Colin Creavy sat huddled near the back of the cave, gently caressing his beloved camera. His clothing was torn and stained with over a months travel through some of the harshest landscape the world had to offer. Colin, himself, was thinner than he had been during his years in Hogwarts, but his musculature had hardened under the strain of long travel…they had been unable to risk apparation or portkey travel, because it would have been far too easy for their hunters, forHer,to detect. 

They?

Of course, Colin's companion…who was currently watching out the cave mouth, listening to the sounds as the Amazon jungle slipped slowly into its nighttime cycle.

"This is all your fault, you know." Colin muttered resentfully for perhaps the thousandth time since they had fled into hiding.

Draco Malfoy glared back at his companion. Draco was just as bedraggled as Colin, more so, as it was such a contrast to his usual immaculate grooming. "Shut up." He growled, turning his attention back to the jungle.

"I know you have a history with her, but did you have to involve me?"

"Shut up."

"I mean, of all the possible things to actually pay attention to in Muggle Studies…"

"Shut Up."

"We're both going to die."

Draco snarled, "Will you shut up. Merlin's Ball-Sack, you're a whiner. How in Morganna's name did you manage to end up in Gryffindor?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Anyway, it was obscure. I didn't expect her to notice…"

Colin just stared back in amazement. "She's the most brilliant witch of our generation and a muggleborn…of course she's going to spot it, and understand the significance. Just how did you manage to slip this by me anyway?" Colin held up the yearbook for Draco's graduating year at Hogwarts.

The book was open to a page featuring a single photo featuring just three people.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and…

Hermione "_Fingercuffs_" Granger.

"I mean, did you think you were being cleaver or something? She takes Muggle Studies too you know. She saw that movie as well. It was reasonably fresh in her memory…and her memory is perfect." Colin had put the book away again and was staring nervously at the very tense Draco.

"I don't know what I was thinking, except maybe to get a little revenge against the mudblood whore who cost my family so much. I just cast a simple glamour over the typeset so it would look normal when you reviewed it. Something I picked up in the Malfoy Codex." He sighed and returned his attention to the outside world.

"We're going to die…" Colin whimpered.

"Shut up." Draco beat his head against the stone of the cave mouth.

* * *

In the distance, Harry Potter watched them. They had done well to situate themselves so cosily, and would be safe from the elements for a time.

"A cave, deep within the darkest heart of the Amazon rainforest. Hermione will be hard pressed to locate them here. They should be safe for a couple of weeks, before she tracks them down again." Harry mused.

He nodded to himself in satisfaction, and disapparated back to England.

* * *

AN: No, it wasn't my brainstorm...and I think they borrowed the idea from Chasing Amy... 


	5. The Spell of Nietzsche

I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise, nor the marketing empire that it spawned.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Spell of Nietzsche**

* * *

Harry had spent the last fortnight of the Summer break cloistered in Dudley's second bedroom.

Oh, sure, he had replied to mail, and sent off missives to the Order of the fried Turkey; but the bulk of his time had been spent alone in his room with the door barred against entry.

It had been this way ever since the trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies for his Sixth year. He had met up with the Weasleys and Hermione, and escorted by half the flaming Order, had completed most of his shopping before needing to visit Gringotts.

* * *

**Two Weeks Before...**

"Hang on guys, I still need to stop at Madame Malkin's," Harry was fingering his quite depleted coin pouch.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Why would you want to go there? And anyway, it's back that way."

"Yeah, but Gringotts is this way, and I'm down to a handful of sickles," Harry pocketed his pouch and led his entourage to the Bank. "Do you think I could get some privacy here?" He glared at his minders.

"Go ahead Harry. Tonks and Remus will wait for you in the foyer, the rest of us will be out here," Kingsley Shacklebolt shooed the three into the bank before sending half his people down the way a bit to Florean Fortescues.

* * *

As soon as he crossed the threshold into the bank itself, Harry staggered.

"You alright there Harry?" Tonks grabbed his arm to steady him.

Blinking to clear his suddenly blurry vision, Harry suddenly found himself face to face with a large monument. A huge golden monolith squatting dead centre in the middle of the open foyer, halfway up it there was a tattered flag draped around it. A faded red flag, in the centre of which sat a stained white circle. In the circle was a symbol whose presence made Harry gasp in shock.

A swastika.

Both Tonks and Lupin had by this time noticed Harry's shock, but neither could discern a source for it.

"Harry? You're blocking the doorway. Remus, help me move him." Tonks had seen several goblins looking in their direction and muttering to each other.

The two of them started to move him, when a goblin stepped in front of them. "What is the meaning of this disturbance?"

Harry was still staring at the flag, "I didn't see that last time I was here."

The goblins eyes narrowed, it's voice growing harsh, "See what, wizard?"

Harry pinned the goblin with his gaze, his own eyes narrowing, "Since when has Gringotts been associated with the Naz..."

The goblins eyes flew open, and with uncharacteristic speed slapped a hand over Harry's mouth, "Forgive the intrusion into your personal space, but you have an immediate meeting with Manager Ragnok to attend. Please save your questions for him and follow me with all haste."

Harry nodded, and was released by the goblin. "Lead on."

Tonks and Remus shared a nervous look as they watched Harry disappear into the Bank.

* * *

Harry followed the goblin into an opulently appointed office.

The goblin behind the desk, garbed in gilded armour, was reviewing a file before being interrupted by the unannounced arrival of one of his underlings and a young human. "What is the meaning of this, do-koglt'n?"

The goblin accompanying Harry knelt down, pressing its forehead to the floor, "Forgive my disruption of the flow, but this wizard has seen the Monolith of Portent."

"Is this true, wizard? Tell me what you saw." Ragnok's eyes appeared to fade into the shadows of his prodigious brow, faintly twinkling lights could be seen deep within if one were to get close enough to perceive them.

Harry stared in surprise, gathering his wits about him he replied, "I saw a great obelisk of gold, halfway up it was a flag. A Nazi flag. Red with a black swastika inside a white circle."

Ragnok slumped back in his chair, "After all these years." He shook his head, "Who are you? I would know the name of the hero that stands before me."

Harry blinked a couple of times, "I am Harry James Potter." He frowned. "But I am no hero."

"Have a seat, it is time for a brief history lesson." A comfortable chair rose out of the floor.

Harry raised an eyebrow, but seated himself.

"In the early 1880's two men met in the Italian city of Genoa and began a series of dialogs. The first man was a muggle by the name of Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche. The second man was Heinrich Luitpold Himmler, or as he was known in the wizarding world, Grindewaldt." He paused to gauge Harry's reaction before continuing. "Their discussions led Grindewaldt to develop a whole new view of reality, and to delve into the blackest of the dark arts. It was Grindewaldt who created the Cruciatus curse."

Harry's eyes widened at this.

"Grindwaldt gathered about him the largest collection of powerful wizards that has ever walked the Earth. Where he found so many wizards of such power is unknown. Although rumour had it that he empowered them as part of his great plan." Ragnok leant forward, "During the final days of the war, not long before his death at the hands of the brothers Dumbledore, Grindewaldt came here. He placed that monolith, and wrapped that flag around it. And he gave into our care, this box." The old goblin caressed the rich mahogany box that had just been brought to him by a pair of heavily armed goblins.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"His instructions were to deliver this box into the hands of the one who would complete his work." The goblin's piercing gaze fixed on Harry for a long moment, "That one is you. That you could perceive the monolith is proof of that."

Harry almost fell out of his chair, "Wh-what? I'm not a Dark Lord. I'm not a Nazi. I don't want anything to do with this."

"Then take it and destroy it. But take it you must, lest my people face total ruin." He pushed the box towards the young wizard.

"But. But." Harry's thoughts caught up to him, "Ruin?"

"Yes. Ruin. Grindewaldt laid a mighty doom upon our race, should we fail in our duty. The monolith's gold has already been broken down and transferred to your vaults." He nodded to himself. "He spoke to me at length about his plans. I weary of this world, and am glad to finally meet the one who will bring an end to the darkness that it has sunk into. Now take the box, and leave."

The goblin who had brought Harry to the room helped him to his feet, pushed the box into his hands, and hustled him out of the room.

* * *

On his way back across the bank, a goblin stopped them, handing Harry a small sack of galleons, "Ragnok wants your removal from our premises expedited. This was withdrawn from your vault at no charge to yourself."

The two goblins escorted Harry to the entrance foyer, where Tonks and Remus were waiting for him.

"Harry, what?" Remus began.

"No time, Moony. We're leaving." Harry was staying a step ahead of the goblins, but only by moving with some haste.

It was with no small amount of concern that the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix witnessed the three who had entered the bank, leaving it at a rapid rate followed by a small phalanx of goblin guards who moved to secure the door against return entry.

Sitting under the awning of Florean Fortescue's parlour, Hermione Granger muttered the thought passing through many of their minds, "Oh Harry, what have you gotten us into this time?"

* * *

Harry brushed off any comment about the box, saying it was an inheritance, and that the goblins had been excited about something happening down in the vaults.

* * *

Which all led him to the present day. Two days until the new school year began.

He had initially ignored the box until, out of boredom, he had opened it.

Inside were a small stack of diaries.

The research diaries of Grindewaldt himself.

Harry had been horrified, but in the same way one cannot help but stare at a car crash, he found himself fascinated.

So he had read them.

Harry was horrified. The implications of Grindwaldt's research. If there is any truth to this. What it means for me. I need Hermione.

* * *

This will have more added to it later. Perhaps in the future, it will get it's own posting. Who can know. 


	6. Sacred Fellowship of Carpenters

I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor do I own any part of SG1 or their spin-offs.

* * *

**Xander: The Sacred Fellowship of Carpenters.**

* * *

After the Hyena and Halloween Soldier incidents, Willow crafts a ritual to protect Xander against being possessed ever again. However, given the beneficial side effects of both possessions, she sets it up in such a way as to allow him to absorb any benefits a future possession might bestow upon him, while denying the possession any access to Xander or his body.

Time passes.

* * *

After season 7 of Buffy, and the closing of the Hellmouth, the Scoobies scatter to the four winds. 

Buffy flees to Europe with her sister, taking an extended holiday around the Mediterranean.

Willow joins Giles in setting up the newly minted Slayers on the Cleveland Hellmouth.

Xander retires. The fight has just been too hard for him and on him. He retires to the part of America with the lowest supernatural population. Colorado.

The residue of Soldier Guy makes it easy for Xander to just mesh into the Colorado Springs area. With the Mt. Cheyenne complex nearby, much of the local region is populated by military personnel, or retired military personnel. With his eye and scarring, and with the way he carries himself, most folk he meets consider Xander to be 'their people'. Military, retired honourably, and they treat him as such.

In the higher concentration of military, Xander's Soldier personality surfaces, and the ritual Willow did on him begins to actively affect him. He exercises, he trains, and he begins to fit in even better.

Then it happens, a Gou'ald escapes into the area. On the run and in desperate need of a new and unidentified vessel, the Gou'ald attacks Xander. It wins, but only at the cost of it's current host being fatally wounded. Xander is no mere tau'ri. A better description would be hok'taur.

The Gou'ald enters Xander, and finds itself trapped. Unable to control Xander, it must await his return to consciousness.

* * *

Several hours later, Xander awakens to find himself in the custody of the USAF. In a sealed observation room. His injuries have been treated, though he remains strapped to the bed. 

Once his watchers notice he has awakened, an air force colonel enters accompanied by a large black man and a small group of guards who continue to train machine guns on him.

"I am United States Air Force Colonel Jack O'Neil. We would appreciate if you would cooperate with us and answer a few questions."

"No promises, Colonel, considering I'm currently tied up and feeling a little persecuted here," Xander made a wry half-smile.

"Take it one at a time then, shall we?" O'Neil matched the restrained man's smirk. "Let's start with the easy one. Who are you?"

Xander took a moment to look around the room, pausing to consider the large black man, and the odd feeling he was getting off the man. _Jafar. Within his torso lies an immature Gou'ald._ A quiet voice within him seemed to supply. _They mean to destroy me._ Xander paused, and turned his full attention back to the greying Colonel. "Alexander Harris. Retired carpenter."

"Okay Mr. Harris…" O'Neil started.

"Call me Xander."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

Xander grinned, "I get the feeling this is going to take a while, and I keep looking for my asshole of a father when someone says 'Mr. Harris'"

O'Neil chuckled and nodded, "Well then, Xander, care to tell us what you were doing in the alleyway off Fourth at about 1845 this evening?"

Xander ignored the raging voice inside his head and raised an eyebrow at the colonel. "Why don't we just cut to the chase? I think we both know that this isn't about the psycho who attacked me in the alleyway."

"What is this about then?" Jack asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"This is probably about the noisy little bastard, who is so Not A God," Xander chuckled, as the voice in his head grew more strident. "As I said Not A God, who seems to think he should be in charge of my body. Pffftt, like that's ever going to happen."

O'Neil's poker face dropped, and he moved over to beside his Jafar comrade, "Teal'c, the snake is inside him, right?"

"Indeed, I can sense it. As did Doctor Fraser's medical equipment." The stoic Jafar observed this Alexander Harris with new respect. "It is unprecedented for a host to deny an implanted Gou'ald."

"So. Planning to introduce your Jafar buddy to me?" Xander called out.

The large dark-skinned man approached the bed, "I am Teal'c, former First Prime of Apophis. I no longer serve the false gods."

"Good for you Teal'c. Great meeting you." Xander looked at O'Neil, "Any chance of getting this over with?"

"It's impossible. How?"

"Trade secret."

"What? Is this like a Freemasons thing? You carpenters have a secret society thing that makes you immune to possession?"

"Well, yeah. Remember, JC was a carpenter." Xander deadpanned.

USAF Colonel Jack O'Neil was a Special Forces veteran. There was very little he hadn't seen or done in his years of service. This totally gob-smacked him. His jaw dropped, as he stared in disbelief at the man restrained on the table before him. "WHAT?"

Xander managed to keep his straight face for a full thirty-seven seconds before breaking out in full-belly laughter.

Up behind the observation window, the other two members of SG1 and General Hammond were grinning; it was not often their favourite Colonel was caught flat-footed.

Jack recovered quickly. "Nice. You planning on levelling with us?"

"I suspect you don't actually have the clearance for me to discuss my end of things. I would need to make a couple of secure phone calls to check that out."

"I thought you said you were just a carpenter?"

"And Casey Ryback was just a cook."

"Ah, Damn it. I knew you were Special Forces."

"Something like that. Can I make my calls?"

"I'll have to talk to the General."

"No problem. In the mean time, any chance of some food and access to the John?"

"Gimmie a couple." Jack left the room.

* * *

Another idea that popped into my head. More may follow. Xander is just such an ideal patsy for so many flocked up situations... 


	7. I'll Be Black

I own neither Harry Potter or The Terminator. Same goes for associated products, offshoots, and marketing.

* * *

**I'll Be Black...**

* * *

Lily was in shock. Six months pregnant, she had just arrived home to find her world in ruins.

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was standing over the corpse of James Potter amidst the ruins of their house.

"Ah, the mother," a sibilant whisper cut through the silence like a shout. "Avada Kedavra."

A bolt of green energy shot across the room, slamming into her belly…before bouncing off and flashing back into the black-cloaked figure. With a piercing shriek, the Dark Lord's body was ripped asunder, his imposing form reduced to a formless wraith that quickly faded from view.

Lily collapsed, unconscious, her lifeforce severely drained.

* * *

Peter was terrified. Fortunately, as this was his normal state of being, this was hardly incapacitating. He had watched the Dark Lord arrive at his friends house, had in fact used his key to allow the master to enter unhindered. Had watched through a crack in the door as Voldemort had slain James and destroyed a goodly portion of the house at Godric's Hollow.

He had not counted on Lily not being home. The Dark Lord had just hissed Peter's name in anger when Lily had flooed home.

And Peter had watched as Voldemort was destroyed by his own rebounded Avada Kedavra.

Now Peter was in a bind. Despite the impression he had given most people in school, he was not a coward…hello, Gryffindor. Sure he was scared a lot, terrified more often…but he still did what needed doing. He knew that the other Death Eaters would blame him for the Dark Lord's disappearance. He knew Sirius would be here soon, and would come after him. And then there was Lily…

A grim smile slowly spread across Peter's face. He picked up a random piece of rubble and pointed his wand at it. "Portus."

He lobbed it at Lily, sending her a long way away.

* * *

Concentrating, Peter began chanting. An anti-portkey ward slowly joined the anti-apparation ward that Voldemort had put in place. The simple expedient of destroying the fireplace had dealt with that avenue of approach.

Peter walked to a neighbouring house. "Alohamora." He looked around, figuring the wards would give him a few minutes leeway. He entered the master bedroom. "Stupefy, Stupefy, Obliviate. Levitus." The male in the bed didn't move, slipping deeper into unconsciousness. The female's body rose up out of the bed, floating along behind him. He stopped by the two children's bedrooms. "Obliviate." "Obliviate."

He returned to the ruins of the Potter's house. The quick application of a potion he had…borrowed…from the Dark Lord's stores, and it was Lily's body lying before him.

"Avada Kedavra."

Moments later a rat was slipping away into the sewers.

* * *

"James! Lily! NOOOOOOOOOooooooooooo!!!!" An anguished howl rang out into the night.

Sirius Black, tears of sorrow and rage streaking his noble face, stood in the ruins of the Potters house howling his loss up at the glowing full moon.

"He will pay, James, Lily, I swear it by all that is sacred, by my very magic. I swear he will PAY!!!"

A burst of golden white light lit up the ruins momentarily.

* * *

Frank Longbottom looked up from where he was monitoring the flow of magical energies around Britain. The bursts of dark magic had stopped a few minutes ago, only now though, had the wards come down. "Moody, they're down."

The senior Auror grunted in reply and held out the length of rope to his team. As the last of his team grabbed hold, he muttered the command word and touched the rope with his wand. A sudden tugging at their navel indicated their successful transit.

The sight that greeted their arrival would have left lesser men in shock.

The house before them was in ruins, the bodies of James and Lily Potter clearly visible. And standing amidst the ruins…Sirius Black, their Secret Keeper.

"BLACK!" Moody's shout snapped everyone's attention back to the job at hand.

The rest of the Aurors followed Moody's lead, wands pointed at the dangerous man standing in the ruined house.

Sirius looked at the Aurors, eyes literally glowing with the barely contained rage that consumed him in the knowledge of Peter's betrayal.

"Drop the wand and come quietly, Black." Moody called, watching the mans every move.

Sudden realisation smashed it's way through his rage. _They think I was the Secret Keeper, they think I betrayed the Potters._

Sirius' eyes narrowed as he glared back at the Aurors. "I don't suppose it would do any good to proclaim my innocence, would it?"

Frank spoke up, anger in his voice. "Don't give us that, it's known you were their Secret Keeper."

While Black was focused on Frank, Moody took his chance and shot off several stunning and immobilising hexes. The other Aurors following suit moments later.

Sirius barked a humourless laugh, and levitated a pile of rubble to intercept the incoming spells.

A few moments later, the rubble dropped to the ground, leaving no sign of Sirius Black.

* * *

**Daily Prophet – May 25**

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED IS DEAD!!!!

Auror's from the Ministry of Magic tonight found conclusive proof of the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Sadly this came at the cost of James and Lily Potter, who were found dead in the ruins of their home. Forensic Aurors found evidence that indicates He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was destroyed by one of his own killing curses, rebounded back at him by the Potter's unborn child. Rumours of a prophecy heralding a "Saviour" appear to have had some truth to them. We all mourn the loss of the Potters and what their sacrifice has given us.

**Daily Prophet – May 27**

SIRIUS BLACK: BETRAYER!

Reports from reliable sources in the ministry implicate Sirius Black, onetime friend of James and Lily Potter, in their deaths. They go on to state that Black was highly placed in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's inner circle, and that his betrayal of the Potter's was entirely to be expected given his family's reputation. In an official statement from the Minister, he declares that Sirius Black will be brought to justice for his crimes.

* * *

Lily awoke with a start, looking around frantically. White walls, beeping machines with lights, soft but slightly uncomfortable bed, faint astringent smell…

_Ah…a muggle hospital._ Lily relaxed back onto the bed. Her thoughts, however, were racing. _How did I get here? Why here and not St. Mungoes? Jame…_ Her mind shied away, not yet ready to deal with that.

A nurse entered the room. "Awake are ya, honey? Feeling hungry? I'll just get the Doctor." The nurse smiled reassuringly.

Lily suddenly realised what she had been missing before: the nurse was American. All the voices she could hear out in the corridor…were American. With a bitter laugh_, I may very well be IN Kansas, Toto…_

A stern man knocked on the door, catching her eye before entering. "I'm Doctor Hammond, Miss…?"

Lily's mind, always very quick, blurred with thought. Voldemort was after me…why I'm not dead I do not know…If he finds me again, I'm dead…The Doctor doesn't know my real name…A fake name will give me time to recover, to hide again…

The Doctor's calm expression and raised eyebrow caught her eye; the name of her favourite doll sprang to mind. "Ah…Sarah…"

The Doctor smiled, and waited.

Thoughts still racing, the name of one of Lily's housemates from Hogwarts leapt to mind.

"Connor…yes, Sarah Connor…"

* * *

And so the stage is set for a very fun rewrite of a certain movie with Peter Pettigrew taking the role of Kyle Reese and Sirius Black that of the implacable Terminator...


End file.
